In Which Life Is Lived
by PromisingSekai
Summary: A series of glimpses into the lives of Howl Jenkins Pendragon and Sophie Hatter. Mostly book-verse but I may put some things in movie-verse later on. T for safety. Please read and review! Enjoy!
1. In Which Howl Learns A Lesson

**Hi, it's Sekky and I'm *finally* getting to my second fic! Actually it's only been a few days but it feels like forever. I hope that you guys enjoy the story!**

 **I don't own this.**

* * *

"Howl," called Sophie. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Whaddyou waaaaant?" Sophie sighed. It was four in the afternoon, yet Howl sounded as if he'd been disturbed at two in the morning. She waggled her finger at him.

"Now don't you whine. All you're doing is sitting up here in this stuffy old, dusty old, dirty old room of yours. Why you won't at least tidy up in here I have no idea."

Howl lifted his head from his pillow for just enough time to shoot Sophie a piercing glare. "I thought you wanted me to do you a favor, not to scold _me_ for keeping _my_ room the way _I_ like it. If you've got nothing to say, I'd like to get some more beauty rest. It's not easy to look as perfect as me, you know."

"Fine, fine. I _waaaaaas_ going to cook lunch so that Your Highness Lord Howl wouldn't have to lift even one finger, as we all know how horrible it is for that to happen, but since you're being stubborn, I suppose you can just do it yourself!" She was shouting and her words positively dripped with sarcasm.

Howl gulped. He'd gotten more than enough education in Wales to do sums, and he'd gotten plenty of wizard training in Ingary that told him to rely on his instincts when divining. Thus, he realized that Sophie+sarcasm+shouting=angry Sophie. And all he could see in his future when there was an angry Sophie around was that he wouldn't be safe from her wrath anywhere- and his spiders certainly wouldn't either.

"Uh..."

Now, dear readers, please remember that Howl had always tried to slip out of sticky situations, not diffuse them. Unfortunately, it is not very easy to slip out of the situation when the girl you promised to try for "happily-ever-after" with is the problem. So, Howl made a rather large slip, and a hypocritical slip at that. He acted without properly thinking. He did the firslt thing that came to mind, that being to blurt...

"Your hair looks like it's on fire when you're angry!"

"Oh really? Well, at least I don't need about forty potions to keep my shade even! At least MINE doesn't make me look like an anemic albino!"

 _Two can play at that game, Miss Sophie Hatter._ "Oh yes, now you're giving me the NATURAL talk again! Because everything you do is NATURAL! It's so NATURAL to just waltz into someone else's castle and pronounce yourself the new cleaning lady! It's totally NATURAL to make the owner of the castle you invaded look horrid with some disgusting shade of ginger! Then you even followed me when I went to court Lettie! But wait, that's ok because it's NATURAL!"

Had Howl been paying attention, he would have noticed a flicker of hurt in Sophie's eyes.

"That was ages ago! And-and-and you're a perfectly fine one to talk! Using an eavesdropping spell to spy on me and Percival! Not even telling me you knew I was bewitched! And I was looking out for my own SISTER! You can't possibly expect me to have sat back and let you break my sister's heart, you horrid man!" Sophie was so furious that she was having a bit of trouble getting her words out.

"IT WASN'T EVEN A MONTH AGO! IMPERTINENT SOPHIE! NONE OF THE OTHER GIRLS WHO I COURTED WERE SO SOPHIE-ISH!" Somewhere in the argument, Howl had lept to his feet and started shouting as well.

"I WOULD HOPE NOT, SEEING AS I'M THE ONLY SOPHIE YOU EVER COURTED!" She stopped for a second, hesitated, and quite suddenly slapped his cheek. With all the dignity in her body, positively quivering with rage, the Soceress Sophie Hatter grabbed the Wizard Howl Jenkins Pendragon's shirt and snarled to him, "And I suppose that since I'm just another girl you've courted, I'll be going now. Goodbye." She released him and flung him back against his bed and marched straight out of the room. Howl could hear her exchanging words with a gentle-sounding Calcifer. Why couldn't Calcifer be that nice to _him_ too, dammit! The castle door opened and closed again, but it wasn't until the dial began whizzing about to hide which one Sophie had left out of that Howl fully realized what had happened.

Sophie and he had had a fight, and she had left him for it.

Sure, they'd fought before, but it was the first time since she'd regained her youth, and the first time since he'd suggested happily ever after to her.

 _Coc y gath_! How was he supposed to give her a happily ever after if he couldn't even handle one argument? "I think," Howl mused to the air around him, "that I'll just have to go after her."

And so Howl pounded down the stairs, only for Calcifer to confront him. "You no-good wizard! You made her cry!"

"What?!" Howl had never seen Sophie cry. Heck, he didn't even know she was capable of crying.

"You heard me. Shall I spell it out for you? Your _cariad_ , as you refer to her, was crying because you were quite mean to her." It seemed Calcifer had caught Sophie's sarcasm.

"Well, I'm going to go and set things right, ok?! You don't need to be that way, Cal!" Howl, all at once, realized that he was taking out his rage at himself on Calcifer. Blasted heart, making him feel bad about making Sophie upset!

He sighed. "Did you see where she went?" Calcifer glared at him.

"I did, but this is your problem and you need to solve it yourself. I'm going to go visit some other fires now." And with that, Clacifer shot up the chimney and disappeared.

Well then. The mystery of where Sophie was would have to be found through logic; magic felt like cheating. _Hmm,_ Howl mused. _Purple. The Waste gardens. Too predictable, but still an option. Orange. The Chipping Mansion. That one's out, she wouldn't want to be somewhere she couldn't run from me, in case she did want to. I hope she doesn't. Oh god, what if she does?_ Howl shook his head. He was getting distracted.

 _Black. Wales. Definitely out, she hates Megan and doesn't know anything about the place. That leaves Market Chipping._ Howl flicked the dial to yellow, and, coming as close as a wizard can to praying, opened the door and headed for Cesari's. Lettie blocked the door.

"No you don't, Howl! Unless you want to make a purchase, you can't come in here!"

"Look, Lettie, just let me talk to her. I know she's here. C'mon, you should understand that lovers sometimes argue."

"Ben has never made me cry, Howl! Now you just-"

"Howl?" Sophie appeared in the doorway behind Lettie.

"Sophie! Look, I'm sorry, I don't want you to think that you're just another girl, I want you to know that you're special to me and I-"

Lettie cleared her throat. "I'm going back to work, Sophie. If you want to stay here just come to the back room." As she backed away, she mouthed to Howl, " _Take good care of her_." Howl nodded and waited until she was gone to continue.

"Sophie, really, I'm sorry, I-I-I..." His words refused to obey him, but she understood.

"Howl." Her voice was quiet and gentle. "I forgive you. I'm sorry too, and it's not really your fault."

Howl, in a sudden fit of joy, picked her up and spun her around, and kissed her soundly on the lips. "I love you!"

"I love you too!" Neither of them noticed that it had been the first time they'd said those words. Arm in arm, they went home.

* * *

Later that night, as the two sat around the table (Michael was already asleep in his room and Calcifer still hadn't returned), Howl asked, "Sophie, if you don't mind, what was it that made you so upset? I'd like to know so I can avoid it."

"Oh. Um. You see, Howl, you only really got to know me as an old woman, so you haven't seen me like this yet."

Howl raised an eyebrow at her and took a sip of tea.

"Uh, see, it's not quite your fault in the whole... You see, Howl, er, you know Megan is a girl, so you might be acquainted with this... I'm on my, er, 'lady's days,' Howl."

Howl rather admirably refrained from saying, "That makes sense." Unfortunately, he was unable to avoid spitting out his tea.

* * *

 **So that's it! For now anyway. I'm thinking of making this about ten chapters, maybe more. It depends on what you guys and gals think of it, which brings me to my next point: please review! This community isn't exactly busy, but I always love to see the opinions of everyone here!**

 **As for what _coc y gath_ means, it's a Welsh expression that literally translates to "the cat's willy," amd is used to express surprise, shock, or rage.**

 **Catch you later! Ja ne! -Sekky**


	2. In Which There Is Rugby

**Hi guys, I'm back! So I decided that this series, even though it's only a look into their daily lives, will actually follow some semblance of a storyline. A realistic one, if you think about it, since real life doesn't have things become apparent right away! Imagine realism in Ingary though, it's positively ridiculous and I love it!**

 **Now, storytime! I don't own anything.**

* * *

Sophie Hatter loved her life. Every day she woke to the sight of sunshine on the Wastes Gardens, or the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window to that strange place ("Wales," was it?), or the familiar shouts of greeting in Market Chipping, or, more often than not, Calcifer singing that stupid saucepan song, or Calcifer burning the bacon (on purpose, one might add), or Howl making loud and flamboyant entrances in the middle of the night (usually drunk and returning from Wales), or Howl being drunk and returning from Wales to shout the saucepan song at the top of his lungs with Calcifer (because never mind sleep, songs had to be sung loudly, badly, and off-key right that instant!), or-or...

Oh, blast it. Who was she kidding? Everyone in town knew that Wizard Howl wasn't easy to live with, and this fact was even more so now that she'd given him that dratted heart back!

Not that Sophie terribly regretted doing it, of course. Howl was a wonderful man when he wasn't drunk, and even when he was, he was just very loud and obnoxious. She'd heard horror stories about women being beaten when their men were drunk, and Sophie could only shudder to think what those men might do with Howl's amount of magic. She was thankful for the life she had, really, but...

"But you can't get enough sleep?" Lettie gave Sophie an impish grin as Martha stammered something about appropriate topics for brunch with one's sisters.

Sophie turned red and stammered, "T-that's not what I meant at all! Howl and I don't do those kinds of things! We don't even sleep in the same room!" She looked around to see if anyone was listening, but, as usual, the diner section of Cesari's was packed with people absorbed in their own brunches and friends. "He just always comes home from Wales drunker than a sailor on leave, and when he's drunk, he likes to sing some silly song with Calcifer, who is a terror on his own, if you must know."

"Jeez, someone's touchy," remarked Martha. "It would seem to me that the solution to your problem would be to simply go with him to Wales and make sure he doesn't get drunk, then do something really nice for him the next day to enforce the idea that not going three sheets to the wind is good. It's really quite easy."

Sophie thanked her sisters kindly and went directly home, pondering if it was really a good idea to go to Wales. It would probably mean having to see Megan, and, Megan being Megan and Sophie being Sophie, they absolutely hated each other. Perhaps Howl would just avoid drinking?

So the next time Howl flicked the knob to black, Sophie stopped him and requested that he not consume any alcohol when he was out. And of course Howl didn't take well to that. He swore up and down that it would be the last time for a while, and that one does not simply avoid alcohol at the Rugby World Cup, and that he wouldn't miss it unless something incredibly dangerous came up in Ingary. Apparently one of his friends from when he had played rugby himself was playing and it was the last game of the tournament, too.

"Take me too, then," Sophie announced. Perhaps her presence would deter him from excessive alcohol consumption. Howl gave her a long, long look.

"I don't think you'll understand what's happening."

"That's fine."

"I promised some mates I'd meet up with them."

"I don't mind." They stared at each other for a minute, each one too stubborn to look away. And all at once he sighed.

"I suppose you'd find a way to go anyway, Ms. Nose. Get ready then, and stick close to me." Sophie shoved her feet into her shoes and hurried over to the door. Howl opened the door, and together, they crossed into Wales.

* * *

Wales was busy once you got into the city. There was a large group of the horseless carriages-Howl said they were "cars"-that made moving their car difficult. Apparently this was called a traffic jam, and, much like a bad storm, one had to just wait for it to end. Luckily, Howl had a lot to tell Sophie, so no time was really wasted. After all, wasting time to Sophie was even more unacceptable now that she was young; she knew what being old felt like and, even if just for a minute, she didn't want to squander her youth.

What was Howl saying, one might ask? Well, he appeared to be cramming as much knowledge of rugby into Sophie's head as possible, and as for Sophie herself, she was nodding and acting like she understood. The wait seemed to take entire seasons, and Howl's prattering on about rugby only made it longer; as such, by the time the car had been parked, Sophie could barely stop herself from dancing about on the hard asphalt of the walkway. In fact, she probably would have, if it weren't for the copious amount of people flooding the ground, chatting in Welsh, waving flags, showing off their face paint to each other, and, of course, drinking.

"Howell!" Sophie's gaze was yanked from the fans milling about to a group of men, around Howl's age, perhaps even older, running towards them. Howl also jerked his head towards them and started shouting, presumably, the men's names. He sank fluidly into the mass of men and, after about fifteen minutes of slapping people on the back and punching each other on the arm, the other men noticed Sophie standing awkwardly by the car and being totally uncertain of where she was supposed to look in this place stuffed to the brim with smelly, unwashed bodies and sound and excitement and booze and color.

"Hey Howell, this one with you?" asked a lanky ginger. His face was half covered by a beard and the rest, by black, white, and red. He stank of liquor and swayed a tad when he walked; his voice seemed a little too loud, grating, flat. "See," he added, "if she's not, you know, then I'd like to take 'er ta my 'ouse affer the game..." He waggled his eyebrows and it took all of Sophie's willpower to turn salmon instead of scarlet.

"Oh, _dos i chwarea efo dy nain_ , Bryn. You have other things for that, dontcha? Anyway, she's with me. Gentlemen, I present to you Sophie Hatter." He guided Sophie over and she dropped a curtsy. Immediately she felt all their eyes upon her and she knew a curtsy had been the wrong choice.

An unpainted bear of a man glared down at her and asked Howl, "She ain't YOURS, is she? Ain't she a bit... Er, different than what you always go for?"

"What we mean," added a black haired giant, "is that she's formal and not your usual type." Nods from around the circle; clearly these men couldn't have put it better themselves.

"No, uh, we're, uh, dating. Besides, I've changed. If I hadn't, I wouldn't even hang about you lot. Now let's go, they'll be starting soon."

Sophie found herself swept along in a tide of men. "HOWL!" she hissed. "What exactly is dating? Did you just pass me off as another of your flings?"

"No! I just said I'd changed! Didn't you hear? It means we're lovers." He shot her a glare. "And here it's _Howell_ , not Howl."

"Fine then!" Sophie glared back and stuck her tongue out at him as he turned his back to pull them into their seats.

* * *

The game came and went in a flurry of foul tasting alcohol, disgusting odors from practically everyone in Wales piled up around them in the stands, and a ball being tossed around, accompanied by shouts and jeers that Sophie could only pretend to understand. She managed to knock over, steal, or kick away most of Howl's "beer." The stuff was like the illegitimate lovechild of cat piss and cheap ale and she gagged with every swallow. As a result, she was intensely inebriated, and he was nearly totally sober. He bundled her up and, ignoring the teases of his friends, carried her off into the car. The combination of the smooth, gentle movement of the car, the alcohol in her system, and a murmuring noise coming from Howl-what'd the man want now, of all times?-lulled Sophie into sleep, and within minutes she was snoring in the special way only a completely drunk person can.

Some time later, she was pulled halfway out of her slumber by a swaying sensation (was she being carried?), heat, the familar smell of the kitchen, the feeling of her bed beneath her, blankets above her, a splash, a clatter, gentle swearing, someone stroking her hair, that stupid saucepan song (a curious, slow kind of it), blackness, warmth, comfort...

* * *

"Urghhhh." The room was bright, much too bright. She could hardly see. She could hardly think, for that matter. Her head was pounding. She tried to stand, grasping for the nightstand, and found a glass of water. In a second it was empty and the pills that had sat beside it were gone too. Sophie did feel a tad better then. She staggered to the kitchen and collapsed into a chair.

"Good morning." Howl was smirking. "I'm thinking I should always take you to rugby games. I've never felt better the day after, you know."

Sophie snarled at him. "I've never felt worse. I daresay it's nowhere near worth it for a night of sleep."

"Oh no, you're coming with me. After all," Howl grinned roguishly, "it's not everyday Sophie, bane of spiders, is docile enough for me to stroke her hair as she falls asleep."

Sophie turned away so neither Calcifer nor Howl could notice her blush. After a brief pause, she whispered something. One word, though it made both happier than they'd like to admit.

"Fine."

* * *

 **Well, that's it for this chapter! I'm sorry; I feel I skipped a lot about the rugby because I didn't really know anything about it even after researching, and it kinda turned away from the comedy factor, and a lot of it was much more rushed than it should have been. But it's the best I can do for now, so please bear with me!**

 **HUUUUUUUUGE SHOUTOUT TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED! You amazing, lovely people are a major part of my motivation and I can't begin to tell you how much it means to see you all commenting. Especially big shoutout to AJ Maxima for leaving so many helpful tips and pointers for me! You're awesome!**

 **Next chapter will hopefully be soon! Ja ne!**

 **-Sekky**


	3. In Which A Dream Is Fulfilled

**Hi guys, I'm back! I'm sorry for updating so slowly, and I'm afraid I'll have a kinda erratic upload schedule for a while. I went back to uni a while back and haven't had time to write, but I will write whenever I have time.**

 **BIG HUGE GINORMOUS SHOUTOUTS AND HUGS TO EVERYONE WHO REVIEWED AND DOUBLE THAT FOR FOLLOWERS OMG I LOVE Y'ALL! You guys are what motivated me to sit down and write this. In fact, Juliastes, who wanted to see more of Sophie in Wales, this one's for you!**

 **I don't own HMC.**

* * *

"You're going to do WHAT with me?!"

"Look, Sophie, it's perfectly natural, y'see, sometimes, a man has to do what a man has to do-"

"Now don't give me any of that, Howl Jenkins! I said no! I refuse to go!"

Howl sighed. "Pleeeeeeeeease? I'll do all the cooking for a week."

Sophie glared at him. She did enjoy his cooking. And with that, the Terror of All Spiders agreed to go to meet the Dragon of Wales, Megan Parry.

* * *

Perhaps it would be best to explain. Megan was Howl's sister in Wales, a woman so fearsome she had once given Sophie herself a run for her money. Of course, that time, Sophie had looked like an old lady. Now, oh yes, now, it would be different. Now, now would be when Megan Parry was vanquished, once and for all!

Or so Sophie wished. Unfortunately, things probably wouldn't go down that way. Howl had been-shall we say- _forcibly informed_ that his books were littering the Parry house and he was to take them away immediately. However, Howl was rightly terrified of his sister, so he went to the bravest, sassiest, most amazing woman he knew of-Sophie.

Howl sincerely hoped Megan would be too preoccupied with Sophie to rip into him.

Sophie sincerely hoped she would get an opportunity to "burn," as Howl called it, Megan.

Michael sincerely hoped that the books would be interesting and that Howl didn't just stick them willy-nilly in the library in the mansion.

* * *

"How's this?" For someone who claimed not to care about what Megan thought of her, Sophie was trying very hard to look good, Howl noted. How annoying. Oh no, was that what he sounded like? He solemnly swore that he was going to be less vain from then on.

Sophie glared at him. It must have been the third outfit she'd tried on. For goodness sake, couldn't he pay attention? "Let's go," she snorted, and with a swirl of scarlet hair and periwinkle skirts she was in Wales. She looked down at herself. Her hair was pulled up tightly and tied into a kind of tail. Strangely enough, the ribbon seemed to have no ends and was stretchy. Her dress had turned to coarser, darker fabric with a white belt of some kind of shiny stuff. It wasn't glass, though, so Sophie was thoroughly confused as to what it was. She poked at it a bit before Howl stepped out behind her, looking basically the same as every other time he had gone to Wales.

"You're in the way, Sophie," he remarked nonchalantly. "Would you be planning to move anytime soon?"

Sophie growled back, "I'm sorry for wanting to know what these things are. How do women here get dressed? Stretchy ribbons! Flexible glassish stuff! Whatever you've done to my dress, which was perfectly fine before, thank you!"

"It's called elastic, plastic, and denim." Sophie sniffed indignantly, took a step, and promptly fell over. Howl caught her under the arms. "Also, you've got heels. Watch how you step." And so they proceeded up towards the door of the cottage, her wobbling every inch of the way and him snickering to himself about how every drop of the magic was worth it.

No sooner had Howl pressed the buzzer, which was apparently a Wales-knocker, than Megan stuck her head out the door. "Oh, it's you," she grumbled at Howl. "Come to get your trinkets out of this house at last? Or-" eyeing Sophie "-here to drop off another of them?"

"I'll have you know Sophie is a perfectly respectable girl who is with me because of our mutual love for one another and not because I am paying her," returned he.

There followed a short and slightly terrifying conversation in that strange language Howl spoke in sometimes, after which both Sophie and Howl were ushered in and quite suddenly separated. Howl went off about the house gathering up things here and there. Sophie was shoved unceremoniously into a chair in the room with the magic box. Sound seemed to be coming from it too, some kind of music, quite catchy, with very little structure at all. Some kind of advertisement, maybe?

Megan sat down in the chair next to Sophie with a smile-fake, apparently, because the next words out of her mouth were the exact opposite of the pleasant expression Megan wore. "So how much is he paying you, harlot?"

Sophie wanted to believe the real meaning had been lost in translation. She forced a smile of her own and in a quavering voice queried, "Excuse me?"

Megan sniffed, a look of revulsion on her face, but after a quick glance at the stairs out the door, started beaming again. Wales-women were so puzzling! Why was Megan switching moods so fast? Perhaps she was-no, she couldn't be! Surely Howl would have mentioned it if his own sister was bipolar? So that she wouldn't offend?

Actually, knowing Howl, that seemed very unlikely.

But it became apparent in the next moment that Wales-women weren't really different from regular women after all. Megan leaned forward and in a sickly-sweet voice, as if she and Sophie were sharing a very funny secret, whispered, "If my children weren't upstairs, I'd ruin you. But since they are, I'll simply explain. You are with my brother. You are clearly a harlot. A whore. A showgirl, prostitute, bitch, whatever you want to call it. Now get out of my house!"

Oh.

Wait, what?

"I-I'm-" Sophie was too angry for words. And then she wasn't. The words poured out of her, a river, a torrent, no, a volcanic explosion of Mount Sophie.

"You dare to call me a whore? Howl and I are in a perfectly sound relationship! If you can't even listen to him, you surely can't listen to children! Can't ruin me because your children are upstairs? I'd like to see you try! And your children have nothing to do with it! You're nothing but an old, unwanted woman who can't control her biased ways!"

Megan lept to her feet, Sophie following suite. "You have no standing in this house! Out with the rubbish, go on!"

* * *

Howl rounded the corner, whistling, a stack of boxes in his arms.

* * *

Sophie searched for words and found none for the first time in a long while. There was but one option. Steeling herself, she brought her hand down towards Megan's face.

* * *

Howl froze in the doorway as a Sophie-hand-shaped welt grew on Megan's side. Wordlessly, he snatched Sophie by the arm and, hands totally full, sprinted for the castle door.

* * *

 _ **Three hours later**_

"Hey, Howl. You, uh, haven't said anything at all since you and Sophie came home." Michael looked worried; rightfully so, since Howl was usually full of self-gratifying reminders of his greatness.

Sophie looked up from her sewing by the fire, horror strewn across her face like Howl's socks in his room. Signaling frantically to Michael, she prayed Howl wouldn't notice.

He didn't, of course. He was Howl. What else did you expect? One doesn't simply distract the Great Wizard Howl Jenkins.

But what he did do was every bit as Great as himself. Folding his paper, he rose, and looking at nothing in particular, walked past Sophie, dropping a slip of paper in her lap. With trembling hands, she opened it, not sure what to expect.

As so often with Howl, it was short. One sentence that meant so much.

 _I've always wanted to do that._

* * *

 **So that's that! It's really late here but I wanted to get this one out to you guys! It was great fun to write and I hope you all loved it, though my quality did go down a bit.**

 **Don't forget to review, everyone! I think the only reason I stayed up to write this one was because I went and read the past comments. Constructive criticism is always welcome!**

 **See you guys soon, I hope! Ja ne!**

 **Sekky**


	4. In Which There Is A Library

**Hi again, it's Sekky back with the next chapter at last! I wanted to tell you guys before I start this one that this fic will start to get a more connected storyline from here on out, which I feel is important because I see it having only about four more chapters after this. I don't know though, what do you guys think?**

 **Also, once more, big big biiiiig hugs to everyone who has been commenting, favoriting, or following this story! Writing for me is a difficult process due to the amount of time it requires, and I cannot stress enough how much it means to see people enjoying this as much as I do. Thank you all so much.**

 **I don't own HMC, nor anything referenced here.**

* * *

The library of the Market Chipping house was, at long last, mopped and dusted, with Howl's books from Wales in a (semi)-organized formation on the tall, tall selves. It would seem he had quite a few more things than expected, though, as his collection stretched all around the library, nearly floor to ceiling books and trinkets.

Not that Sophie was complaining. She had always loved books, and with a very squishy armchair by the window, she found she was in seventh heaven. Howl? Not so much.

"Sophie!" cried the aforementioned wizard for the zillionth time in an hour. "What have I told you about leaving the ladder around? Why do you even need the ladder? There's nothing on the top shelf for you."

Knowing Sophie, one can imagine how things went on. For those who find they cannot, in fact, picture this, it went something like this:

"First off, Howl Jenkins Pendragon, you've had your things in this room for all of two days. You can't expect me to have read all the books in here by then. Also, you said I could read anything I wanted in here or mess about with any potions or powders so long as I didn't blow things up. And, you seem to forget that I have magic as well. Might you tell me, then, what dangerous things would be on the top shelf you don't think I can handle? I know I'm just a weak, helpless, fair, precious little maiden who serves the sole purpose of being rescued by you, but I think I'd like to at least explore."

"Uh... I'm going to ignore all that and just tell you, uh, you don't need to see what's on the top shelf."

"Yes I do." Climbing the ladder, Sophie stretched out and grabbed about four books from the top shelf, stacking them on the top step. " _Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them. Kaze Ni Naru: A Collection of Songs from the Ghibli Classics. The Hobbit: There and Back Again. Twenty And Two Essential Tinctures For Any Magical Being, Wizard or Otherwise._ Oh my, I'm simply terrified. Two wizard handbooks, a songbook, and a memoir, all in strangely ill-fitting dust jackets. Wonderful hardcovers, though."

Howl laughed nervously. "Y-yeah, see, I just didn't want you to-"

"Look inside, clearly, based on your reaction."

"Sophie, no, please! I'm begging you!" But it was too late. Sophie had opened the top book and stared and gasped and shouted, all at once. "Howl Jenkins Pendragon! What i-"

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" roared Calcifer, appearing in midair besides Sophie.

Sophie was still balancing on the ladder. With her shout turning into a shriek, she fell down, down, down, all skirts and fabrics and scarlet and scream.

Howl, cowering below, was not the same slipper-outer he had been the previous year, but he was an opportunist still. He straightened up and sprinted.

There were several distinct, sharp sounds, yet thankfully, none had been the crack of bone against wood. Sophie suddenly found herself wrapped in a warm embrace, under several heavy, bookish objects, the chest beneath her ear emitting a quick _ker-thump, ker-thump_. She dully noted hers was beating out the same rythm: _ker-thump, ker-thump._

Howl found himself crushed under a bundle of cloth and hair and apparently all the books and the ladder too. His cheek was mashed into a silky head, his arms around a petite torso, his entire upper body curled as if to protect the treasure within. _Ker-thump_ , said his pesky, silly heart. _Ker-thump_ , he heard hers return.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine, are you..."

"Shhhhhh."

* * *

So many outsiders would tell you Howl, the great wizard Howl, the terror, the maiden-eater, so many would say he hadn't changed. In fact, several of those close to him would agree.

But not even the stoniest, most cynical heart would be able to deny Howl's change had they seen the spectacle in the library: ignoring the chair, the rug, the fireplace, the blue flame demon flickering grumpily above, even the dirty books and ladder piled high on top of the couple, swaying gently on the floor, so close they might have been mistaken for one.

 _Ker-thump, ker-thump_.

* * *

 **I hope you all enjoyed my three little references in there! The songbook isn't real, or at least not to my knowledge, but I do so love Ghibli. I also hope you don't mind the short chapter, but I think I managed to tell a good story here. As also, review! Please?**

 **Ja ne!**

 **Sekky**


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